Secrets In The Shadows
Page 16
To Lacy's shock, Adam cursed long and hard.
Chapter Eleven
By the time Adam finished cursing a blue streak, Rusty had sobered. Lacy glanced from one to the other, finally settling her accusing eyes on Adam.
"Don't tell me you're on the side on that sneaky, snake-bellied mayor!” Lacy didn't want to believe it, but why else would Adam be so angry that Mr. Salvage had come back to take another stand? And her grandfather—she pinned him with a glare—Grandpa had allowed the mayor to run Mr. Salvage off the last time, claiming he didn't have any proof.
Well, she silently conceded, maybe that part was the truth, but she hated the fact that the mayor had gotten away with it. Surely Adam wouldn't allow it? He was the sheriff ... and he had her grandpa to help. They weren't quite so alone this time.
Crossing her arms before her, she began tapping her foot, waiting on Adam's answer. It seemed he would choose his own place and time.
"Rusty, would you go tell them I'll be out in a minute? I want to have a talk with Lacy.” When he had gone, Adam set his jaw and faced her. “You are the worst woman I've ever met for jumping to conclusions, Miz Ross."
"Stop calling me that!” Lacy burst out. The moment the words were out of her mouth, she could have bitten her tongue off. Thunder, but he had a way of bringing out her worst.
Adam hooked his fingers in his belt loops and shuttered his eyes. Lacy hated it when he did that. She couldn't tell what he was thinking, or how he was feeling. Which she was certain was his intention.
"Isn't that your name? Miz Ross?"
Making an attempt to retrieve her dignity, Lacy said, “Yes. It is. It's just that it sounds so ... so—"
"Impersonal?” Adam drawled. His gaze roamed down her taut figure, then settled onto her face again. “You admit we're over the impersonal stage?” His upraised brow demanded an honest answer.
Lacy shivered beneath the warmth of his blue, blue gaze, mentally cursing his talent for unnerving her. Just one look.... Were her lips swollen from his kisses?
She chose to ignore the question, suspecting he was merely trying to sidetrack her. With a challenging glint in her eyes, she said, “You have people waiting outside for you. What are you going to tell them?"
"What do you think I'm going to tell them?” Adam countered roughly. “That they can't do business in this town? That there aren't enough trees? That I'm afraid of the mayor?"
Lacy bristled. “Grandpa wasn't afraid of the mayor! He did what he could, but he was just one man—"
"Shut up,” Adam said softly. “I wasn't putting Rusty down. Why don't you come outside with me and see for yourself what I'll do? Since you're so determined to stick your pretty little nose in the sheriff's business...."
Lacy sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh!"
Adam smiled at her affronted expression. “Yes, oh. You had it comin', and you know it.” To Lacy's flustered surprise, he reached out and gently tweaked her nose. “God, you're beautiful."
Air rushed into her open mouth. Lacy closed it with a snap. Her face grew warm at the unexpected compliment—until she remembered how good Adam was at distracting her from the issue. Oh, he was very good at it. But this time she wasn't falling for his tricks. “Then why did you curse—"
"Because I didn't come here to start a war and play General,” Adam said with a heavy sigh.
"No. You came here to weasel your way into people's hearts so you could find out what happened to Sheriff Murddock.” Lacy waited for him to deny it, wanted him to say he'd changed his mind and was going to stay, but knew she was hoping in vain. The determined glint in his eyes confirmed it more than any words could. But there was something else there ... something that looked like regret. Lacy ruthlessly stifled the flash of hope that flared in her chest.
"Yes,” he said harshly, “I did. I made a promise to my mother, and if that makes me the bad guy in your eyes, I guess I'm the bad guy."
Lacy couldn't think of a thing to say. She hadn't known about his mother, or about any promise.
When she didn't have a ready answer, he adjusted his hat and bowed mockingly. “I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a job to do.” He started to walk past her, then stopped, leaning close to add, “And we will continue this discussion another time, Lacy. If you're going to make a judgment about me, I think you at least owe me a chance to explain."
After he disappeared through the kitchen doorway, Lacy took a moment to round up her busy thoughts before grabbing the lantern from the table and following him outside.
She felt small and mean. Maybe she had been wrong to jump to conclusions about Adam. Maybe she did owe it to him to listen to what he had to say.
Maybe she was being too judgmental. And she knew why she searched so eagerly for his faults. As long as she kept him at a distance, she wasn't in danger of losing her head—and her heart.
* * * *
Adam hated to admit that Lacy's opinion mattered to him, but it did. He couldn't deny it any longer. Why in the hell did she have to be so stubborn? She acted as if she wanted to believe the worst about him. At every turn, he had to defend himself.
Yanking the front door open, he marched out onto the porch and stood beside Rusty. A lantern hung on a pole by the porch railing, casting a soft yellow glow over the yard. Adam counted four men on horseback. As he watched, a lone horseman urged his mount forward.
"You the new sheriff?” a gruff voice asked.
Adam couldn't see his face; it was shadowed by the brim of his hat. He didn't like talking to a man whose eyes he couldn't see. Neither did he care to defend a man who didn't deserve to be defended, and as long as he couldn't see his face, he couldn't see what kind of man Salvage was. He'd already decided he and Rusty couldn't do it alone, and if the man before him didn't have the guts to tough it out, he wasn't about to waste his time. He wouldn't be around to protect Salvage forever.
He heard Lacy's soft footsteps behind him and resisted the urge to turn his head and look at her. God, it had only been moments since he'd had his lips and hands on her! he thought in self-disgust.
To the man before him, he said, “I'm the new sheriff, Adam Logan. Why don't y'all get down and rest a spell.” He lifted a hand and indicated the rough wooden chairs along the porch as if he had every right to act as host. “Lacy'll get you and your crew a drink of water while we talk.” Glancing behind him, he encountered Lacy's feisty gaze and smiled at her. She softened and went inside to get a pitcher of water, the gentle swing of her hips drawing his attention.
The man in front gestured for the others to dismount and stretched his legs before climbing the steps to the porch. He held out his hand and Adam took it, automatically registering the rough feel of a working man's hand.
"Name's Lester Salvage, Sheriff.” He nodded at Rusty, casting a puzzled glance at the deputy star on his shirt. “I know Mr. Palmer here.” With introductions behind them, he took one of the chairs Adam offered. The other three men settled their dusty behinds on the porch steps among stifled groans and moans attesting to a long, hard ride.
Adam took the seat alongside Lester Salvage.
Rusty rested against the porch post and chewed on a toothpick. After a moment, he said, “Guess you're wondering what happened.” Lester Salvage shrugged, but his eyes strayed once again to Rusty's deputy star. Rusty volunteered the information. “Mayor fired me because I wouldn't run you out of town."
Lester, a short, stocky man with a round, youthful-looking face partially hidden by a week's growth of beard, didn't look surprised by the news. Bitterness mingled with impotent anger as he replied, “Ended up, he didn't need your help, Deputy."
Rusty nodded his grizzly head. “Yep. Right sorry about that. We both know he did it, but there wasn't any proof."
"Question is, will it happen again?” Lester directed the question Adam's way, his hands propped expectantly on his knees, shoulders forward. “I lost a lot of money building that lumber shed, just to have it burnt to the ground. Now, I'm willing to try
it again, if I know I got the sheriff"—he glanced at Rusty, then back to Adam—"And the deputy on my side."
Adam studied the man, deciding he had an honest face. Dammit. How much simpler it would have been if he had discovered Lester Salvage to be as ruthless and greedy as the mayor. Then he could have allowed the two men to fight it out on their own.
But he had taken the job as sheriff, and it was his duty to see that justice prevailed.
As Adam weighed his words with care, Lacy came out of the house with a pitcher of cool water and several tin cups balanced on a serving tray. Adam felt his lips twitch with amusement as he realized she didn't trust the clumsy men with her glasses. As if sensing his gaze, she glanced around and caught him watching her.
For a heated moment, it was as if they were alone; tension crackled between them and pulses raced with excitement. Finally, she gave her head a little shake and turned her attention to serving the cool water to the waiting men.
Restlessly, Adam stood and walked to the end of the porch, then back again. He leaned against the railing and cocked his hip before meeting Lester's earnest gaze. “We won't stop you from building, but you'll have to post your own guards. Shadow City can't afford to hire extra deputies."
"He's right, Mr. Salvage,” Rusty agreed.
Lester stood up, his hat in his hand. “And if the mayor tries to burn me out again?"
Adam smiled the kind of smile that he reserved for his enemies. He was thinking of Jamis Goodrich. “Well, we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it. This time, you'll be ready for him, right?"
Lester hesitated, then nodded.
Adam grunted in response. “If he does try anything, we'll have a witness this time. If he tries to fire me, we'll go to the town council and demand a hearing. I don't think Goodrich would like that too much."
Rusty chuckled at the evil sound of Adam's voice. “He wouldn't. Never did like his laundry where anybody could see it. Reckon he wouldn't like his business where anybody could hear it, neither.” He grinned at Lester. “And I know plenty of his business."
Adam held out his hand, wondering if he would wind up regretting his decision to go against the mayor, the man who had hired him for this job. With a rueful shake of his head, he gripped Lester Salvage's calloused hand and looked into his grateful eyes.
Yes, he had done the right thing.
"Come on down to my office tomorrow and I'll give you a few pointers on how to catch rustlers."
Lester looked blank, until he realized Adam wasn't talking about rustlers. He was talking about the mayor and the ruthless men who worked for him. “Yes, sir,” he said, pumping Adam's hand. He let it go and grabbed Rusty's, pumping just as furiously. “Yes, sir. I sure will."
The men replaced their cups on the tray Lacy held out for them, politely tipping their hats to her in silent thanks. After they departed, Lacy, Adam and Rusty stood on the porch watching the dark shadows move wearily down the road leading from town. Apparently, Salvage wasn't ready for the mayor to know he was back.
Softly, Lacy said, “You did the right thing, Adam. You too, Grandpa. It's time we pulled the mayor down a peg or two. It's getting to where he thinks he owns this town and can do anything he wants.” There was a proud, satisfied gleam in the look she directed at Adam. With a clank of tin cups, she went back into the house.
Rusty and Adam exchanged rueful looks. Adam spoke first. “Women. They don't know what trouble means."
Spitting his toothpick across the rail, Rusty growled, “Course they don't. That's because they are trouble. Hope you know what you're gettin’ into, son."
Adam grunted. “Didn't see any other way around it."
"You mean, without disappointing Lacy?"
Scowling at Rusty, Adam pushed away from the railing and stepped down from the porch. “She and I are gonna have a long talk one of these days."
He turned his back on Rusty's cackling laughter as he headed for the office and the big empty bed where he knew he would lay awake half the night thinking of Lacy.
Lacy, with her hungry eyes and full, moist lips begging to be kissed. Damp, sexy tendrils of hair clinging to her temples. Her long, thick braid just waiting to be unraveled....
Adam doubted she knew how much the hunger showed. He doubted if she knew how much his body wanted to sink into her, to show her what loving was all about. He suspected she didn't know the first thing about what a man and woman could do to each other.
Damn. He'd sure like to show her.
Yet, it wasn't all he wanted from Lacy Ross. He also wanted her respect and approval.
What the hell was wrong with him?
* * * *
Lacy paused outside the new dress shop the girls were all atwitter about, her eye caught by a beautiful dress draping a wooden dummy in the window. Takola waited patiently by her side, ignoring the curious stares of the people passing by on the boardwalk. With her hair in braids and dressed in a long, straight leather tunic decorated with feathers and beads, Takola was an object of interest to the straight-laced citizens of Shadow City, and regrettably, the recipient of several hostile glares.
Lacy knew they stared, but she was so weary of leaving Takola at the house alone. With Ben and Grandpa gone most of the day now, she had taken to bringing Takola shopping with her. Too much solitude couldn't be good for the girl.
Besides, they were here to buy material to make Takola a new outfit or two. That is, if the new establishment carried suede or leather. Takola refused to wear anything but what was customary of her people, and Lacy refused to force her. It was her heritage, the only thing she had left.
Lacy wouldn't dream of taking that from her.
"Isn't it lovely, Takola?” Lacy said of the dress in the window. She wasn't expecting a response; she knew Takola most likely wouldn't find the dress lovely at all. But Takola surprised her. She pointed to the dress, then to Lacy and nodded emphatically.
Covering her astonishment, Lacy grinned, turning her envious gaze to the dress again. The silk and lace concoction was lavender in color, with the tiniest edging of black lace along the round collar and off-shoulder sleeves. Just below knee level, a slant of ruffles edged in the same black lace flowed in layers to the ground.
Lacy sighed wistfully. It was the first store-bought dress she'd ever seen with the exception of a picture in a magazine, and now she wished she hadn't. A dress like that would take weeks to make—if the delicate material could be found at all.
With a resolute squaring of her shoulders, Lacy grabbed Takola's hand and entered the store. She didn't need a new dress. Adam wasn't staying in Shadow City, might not even be here for the September celebration, so there was no need—.
Oh, fiddlesticks. There she went again, thinking about Adam. He probably never thought about her. Days had passed since that wicked kiss in the kitchen when she hadn't offered the slightest protest. She'd heard nothing from him.
Sure, he was busy helping Lester Salvage break the ground for the new lumber mill—that much she knew from Grandpa and Ben—but couldn't he find a moment to stop in and say hello? Lacy hated the hurtful feeling he caused, hated the fact that it mattered. It meant she cared, and that was dangerous, as she well knew.
But what about that talk he said they would have? If he was so all-fired set on explaining to her, why wasn't he?
A hand at her waist jarred Lacy from her thoughts. She whirled, a mock scowl on her face, thinking it had to be Adam. He was the only one bold enough to try such a move in a public place.
She was wrong. Her face froze. She tore the mayor's hand from her waist and dropped it aside as if it were a dead rattler. “Mayor Goodrich. You mind keepin’ your hands to yourself?” She flashed a warning at Takola, who had crept up behind the mayor with a bolt of material lifted in a threatening gesture. Takola stopped, but didn't back off. Her black eyes glinted with savage fury as she waited to see what the mayor would do.
Lacy knew if she didn't make haste in getting rid of the mayor, there would be
a scene the townspeople wouldn't soon forget. A bloody scene.
Jamis Goodrich thought he was handsome. The rich silver hair, combined with the expensive clothes and flashy jewelry gave him a false impression of himself.
Lacy saw him as a fat old man with greed in his eyes and a stone for a heart. Once, a long time ago, he had been handsome. He had even been sort of likable. But not now. He was a pest, and more than once Lacy had had to disentangle herself from an ugly situation such as the one she faced now.
When he spoke, Lacy inhaled the strong, repulsive scent of garlic and whisky. Adam always smelled of peppermint.
"It's hard to keep my hands to myself when I get this close to that delightful figure of yours,” the mayor said with an ugly suggestiveness in his voice.
Lacy stiffened, but tried to keep her revulsion from showing on her face. It wouldn't take much for Takola to disregard her wishes and clobber the foppish mayor with her weapon. Maybe if she refused to talk to him, he would go away.
"When are you gonna stop yearning for fine things and marry me? I'll give you all you could ever want."
But at what price? Lacy clenched her hands at her sides. Her stomach lurched at the thought of lying in bed with this man night after night ... smelling his pungent, awful perfume and suffering his pudgy, bejeweled fingers on her. He couldn't know that she would rather die.
Coldly, she said, “I have no plans to remarry, Mayor Goodrich. And I have all I need, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me—” She stepped to the side with the intention of passing him, and he countered her move. Over his fat shoulder, Lacy saw Takola lift the bolt of material again and closed her eyes. She didn't want to watch.
"Mayor Goodrich. Heard you were lookin’ for me."
The sound of Adam's rumbling voice popped her eyes open. He had taken the bolt of material from Takola, she saw with relief. Takola didn't look happy, but she made no threatening move to take it back as Lacy suspected she would have done if it had been anyone but Adam.
Quickly, while Adam had the mayor's attention, she skirted around his bulky body and went to stand beside Takola, placing a hand on her shoulder—more to stay her than for comfort.